


You Are My Anchor

by msbt



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: M/M, Past Child Abuse, Regression, Rickyl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-04
Updated: 2014-11-25
Packaged: 2018-02-24 02:19:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2564717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msbt/pseuds/msbt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rick encounters Daryl's mental regression. Sometimes he finds himself enjoying it; at other times it annoys him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It starts unexpectedly. Everything's unexpected these days though.

After finishing dinner Rick goes upstairs to check on the hunter. He sure as hell is tired. Missing girl, endless argument with Shane, stress of being asked by the people constantly, and worry about the man who got an arrow and bullet for her.

Rick walks along the dark hallway silently, standing in front of the door that leads into the guest bedroom. There is a momentary pause before he decides not to knock so as not to wake Daryl up carelessly. With great caution, he turns a handle to open the door and peeks inside.

The room is too dark to look for the outline of the hunter. Squinting his eyes, he tries to figure out if Daryl's asleep and finds the bed empty.

"Daryl?" his brows knitted, Rick whispers as he goes into the room. His eyes take a little time to adjust to the darkness and before long he catches something in the corner of the room. It's quivering, looking like someone wrapped in white sheets. Rick tries again with as silent a tone as he can. "ーDaryl?"

It jerks, turning around quickly as if to be called by a ghost. It's Daryl, of course it's the man Rick was looking for but Rick gets confused about what he's watching. Daryl's shaking, his gaze at Rick full of fear, eyes wide and teary.

Daryl fucking Dixon is frightened utterly, obviously, like a caged animal. 

At first Rick thinks it's the wounds or fever that causes something to make him act like that. It should be. "What's happened, Daryl? The wounds aching? Need more painkillers? Orー,"

Rick sees Daryl flinching at a step he takes as he talks to him and turning away, hands covering his ears. "No!" it's a harsh scream in a strangely high pitched tone making Rick freeze. "He's coming, gotta hide somewhere, he's...," it sounds like a frightened kid somehow and Daryl seems to mutter himself like a mantra, panic painfully. Rick carefully makes a calm voice like when he approaches a kid as a sherif. "Who is he?"

"He's, heー, he's gonna beat me, kill me if he finds me," Daryl mumbles, eyes never lifted up and staring at the blankness, shivering in the sheets. He's hugging his knees, burying his face in there as he lets his body rock back and forth slightly. "Gotta hide, and Merle will come to help me, he promised he would."

The craziness of this whole situation strikes at Rick suddenly. Daryl is whimpering. Something's completely wrong. Rick notices Daryl crying and rocking like a damn kid is more insane than the world where the dead starts walking around to devour the living. What's exactly happening here? Why is Daryl crying? Who is "he"? Is this a side effect of pills he took earlier?

A ton of questions spins around in his head as he stares at Daryl who's huddled in the corner. Then the footsteps snap Rick out of his state of shock and he hears a voice coming from outside. "Rick? Everything all right?"

It's Hershel and Rick doesn't waste time, pulling a knob to ask him to come in and help them. "Hershel, something's wrong with him," Rick takes hold of his shoulder and looks back. Daryl is still there, hugging himself with his hands clutching the sheets, quiet sobs escaping him. The old vet is seasoned and insightful enough to grasp Rick's intention quickly, and his attention is focused on the man in the corner of the room soon.

"Daryl? It's Hershel," his voice is calm, even soft like he talks to Carl. "Can I ask you something?"

Though Daryl keeps burying his face into his knees Rick can see a small nod with sniffles. So can Hershel and he continues. "Are you feeling pain anywhere?

"Everywhere," there's a quiet reply, nothing more than a whisper but it's a relief to know he can give a proper answer right now. Actually it's a giant step for them. "Okay then can you tell me more about where the worse pain is?"

"Head, and here," Daryl's hand comes up to rest on his flank that the arrow pierced through earlier. No wonder his whole body including his head and torso is hurting since he said he'd tumbled down the ridge and landed hard in the shallow water. He was all covered in dirt and blood when they saw him stumble out of the wood. Rick could hardly believe he made it out alive.

Hershel nods solemnly, extending his arm in a non-threatening manner. "I got it. Now how about coming here and letting me tend to your wounds?" His calm, soothing tone seems to be enough for Daryl to feel relieved a bit. He looks up from the knees slowly, tilting his head like a little puppy watching its master's face, eyes shining with tears remaining there. "Are you mad at me?"

"No, I'm worried about you, son," Hershel gives him a smile of reassurance as Daryl lowers his eyes with a bit flushing cheeks. "I ain't your son."

"I know. Now let me help you go back to bed will you?"

"I can do it myself. Ain't a kid," well it sounds very like a kid but Rick knows better than to point it out, staying beside Hershel as he watches Daryl standing up, still on alert, keeping a grip on the sheets around his body. He puts his bended knee on the bed first before climbing up and lies down on his back carefully, his gaze never taken from Hershel and Rick as if he expects they're gonna do deadly harm to him, which reminds Rick of the hunter back in the quarry.

"Still hurting?" Hershel doesn't try to move closer to Daryl so as not to scare him, watching him looking up to his face and gnawing away on his thumbnail. "Yeah."

"Wait a bit then, I'm gonna go get painkillers."

"I don't like it," Daryl mumbles around his thumb with a sulky look, eyes darting around elsewhere but Hershel and Rick. "You need to take them if you want to ease the pain. Stay here okay?" The old man gives him one more smile before leaving the room with his eyes making a 'come along' gesture towards Rick. Nodding at him, he casts a glance at the man on the bed to make sure he doesn't look as scared and confused as he did earlier then slips out of the room, shutting the door behind him quietly.

"So what do you think?" as soon as they are alone together in the hallway Rick solicits the opinions of the older man, trying keeping his voice as low and still as he can. A deep sigh is the first thing he gets as a reply and Hershel faces him with a serious look. "Regression, I guess."

"What?"

"It's a response to stressful situations. He's mentally returned to his earlier stage of life so he acts like that," he remarks tranquilly as Rick looks at him in disbelief, unable to say something. "It's an unconscious defense mechanism that's triggered by being exposed to too much stress, fatigue, terror or anxiety. I've heard it tends to occur in people who have been subject to an unrelenting onslaught of abuse or grown up without enough affection like a neglected kid, and we saw his scars. It makes sense."

Rick swallows deeply, putting all the pieces together to gain a much better understanding of the situation. "So, he's in mentally younger state now."

"Yes."

"How long will it last?"

"I can't say for sure, but probably it's a transient symptom. I think he's occasionally been thrown into that state throughout his adult life. Anyway we can't leave him alone. I'll stay up with him," Hershel takes a step to grab meds then gets stopped by Rick's hand on his shoulder. "You don't need to do that. I will."

"You sure?" Lifting up his brow the vet holds the gaze of him. Rick nods affirmatively, "just give me some advice if you have." It's not long before Hershel returns a nod. "He needs a caregiver who can relieve his stress he's suffering from and reassure him. Basically you can respond to him like you would to your own son. Take a parent position of him."

After receiving the painkillers from him Rick goes back to the room, finding the man curling up in bed with his arms holding one of the pillows tight like a teddy bear for kids. His back faces Rick, revealing the bare skin littered with the nasty gashes and burns which make him feel sick. What kind of people could do this to their kids? He will never understand, he doesn't want to.

Taking a slow, deep breath, he dares to sit down on the edge of the bed where Daryl is laying his body. "Can't sleep?" He knows he's lying awake from his tense shoulders and the slight movement of his lips nibbling at his finger. Remembering the advice from Hershel, Rick forces himself to release tension in his own body and mind and use a soft tone as if he's with Carl. "Daryl?"

A muffled 'Mmhmm' comes from the other as he squirms uncomfortably in bed. The whole situation causes the awkwardness to both of them whose eyes haven't met ever since the start. Rick holds back a sigh, trying anyway. "Do you need painkillers? Hershel gave me them."

"Naw," he mutters, fidgeting with the pillow, then turns around all of a sudden. "Rick?"

It surprises Rick and finally he sees Daryl looking over his shoulder at him. "I take the pill then you gonna leave soon?" His voice almost sounds sad, eyes locked on Rick with innocent pale blues. Rick is so astonished it takes longer to react than it should have.

"No, I'll be with you as long as you want, whether you take it or not," Rick has to suppress an urge to squeeze the shoulder before him to express that he means it, running his hand through his curly hair instead. And he sees Daryl changes his stiff face into a smile. Not smirk, not scoff. It's a genuine smile that puts a smile on Rick's face too.

Suddenly Rick realizes Daryl's not been scared, he's been bashful. It's 'he' who was coming to beat him according to Daryl that scared him. Not Rick. He can't tell what a relief it is to know.

Turning his entire body in the opposite direction cautiously not to worsen the pain, Daryl lies down again faced with Rick, hands gripping the pillow. "Sing me somethin'?"

Well, it's definitely an unexpected request. "Um, I kinda suck at that," Rick looks for an excuse for several seconds, ending up giving in to the shiny eyes brimming with expectation. "Okay, then, close your eyes. I'm shy."

He puts his hands in the air as Daryl giggles at it, shifting a bit to take a more comfortable posture. It's been so long since he's sung something for Carl by his bedside that he can't help but to get nervous. Rick sits up straight and clears his throat before starting. "Silent night, holy night…,"

As soon as his husky voice comes out passing through his throat, he feels his cheeks burn with embarrassment, hand automatically resting on his lowered forehead to hide himself. Cursing at himself for how stupid his choice of songs is, he indicates with a wave of his hand that he wants him to forget it or pretend nothing happened hopefully. Then he feels the warm, light weight on his thigh.

"Never got nothin' from Santa Claus," Daryl, without mocking his stupidity, raises himself with his elbow and looks up at him innocently like a newborn baby would their mother. "This is the first time."

He gives Rick's thigh a gentle, hesitant squeeze, and it's an absolute marvel to see him do that besides the new, bitter information. "That was terrible," to know the facts that Santa had never given him anything and that his crappy song was the first gift, he adds inwardly. Laying one hand on Daryl's touching his thigh, he pretends not to notice his flinch as he pulls up a blanket to his chin with another. "Now get to sleep."

Daryl stares intently at his hand wrapped in Rick's as if to ponder whether it's real or not, then laces his fingers through Rick's as he shifts his gaze back to him. "I like you singing."

The simple, sincere words tug at Rick's heartstrings. Rick looks down at him with a broad smile on his face. "Thank you," he really means it, rubbing his thumb across his warm cheek. Daryl snuffles with a small 'hmm' as he shuts his eyes, one hand not leaving from under Rick's. It's not long before Rick hears Daryl sleeping, breathing softly. He goes on humming quietly, tapping Daryl's hand with his thumb like beating the rhythm of the song. The hunter looks much younger when he's asleep, acrimony on his face softening, steel in his eyes hiding behind the eyelids. Rick's fingers itch to smooth his hair tenderly like he would do to Carl, or Lori. It unexpectedly turns out to be a quiet, serene night.

He doesn't realize that he's fallen asleep until he wakes up. His back on the headboard, still sitting on the edge of the bed, but he finds his hand resting on the sheets. He can see Daryl lying showing his back covered fully by the blanket to Rick, and the sight somehow tightens his chest a bit. As much as he admits he misses the warmth of the other's hand, he's relieved to know he doesn't need a humming anymore. Daryl seems to forget everything including Rick's singing when he comes awake. So Rick tries to forget no matter how hard it is.

 

 

The second time is the worst so far. Sky's dark, wind's biting cold. They're on the road. Have been for two weeks. Or three weeks. Rick has lost count like he gets lost in unfamiliar woods. Actually the world has been absolutely unfamiliar and brutal to them after losing the farm and some of them. They're frazzled. So is Rick.

He is sitting on a log alone, eyes narrowed, body tense despite the blank look on his face. His hands clasp a rifle tightly as if it were a diabolical enemy. He keeps his eyes fixed on the endless, abysmal darkness in front of him like it's gotten the answers to something, everything worrying him right now. Lori's pregnancy, the unborn baby, rebellious behavior of Carl, his people's eyes full of doubts and fears, obnoxious walkers, and Daryl. Daryl Dixon.

The hunter who should've come back already is nowhere Rick can see. He saw the man off to go hunting this morning, his blue eyes weary but stoic as always, and an inscrutable gaze and slight nod were all Rick received from him before he vanished quietly into the woods. There were no words between them, just that stares that lingered on each other longer than it should have.

Daryl sometimes stays out for hunting, to feed everyone or to gain some time to be alone. Rick knows and understands it, the man deserves it considering how much he's given of himself sacrificially to the group. Nevertheless, there is something inside of Rick that can't allow him to do that. Rick needs him to be beside him. He can't let go of him, not after he lost his former best friend, the bond with his wife, a firm ground that had once supported his feet, faith, everything. Nothing's been the same since then and everything seems to be slipping away from his hands. Now Daryl's his anchor that can keep him grounded as a sane, decent leader of them. They've gotten close to each other for these past months, had each other's back, and Rick looks at Daryl as something special that even Shane couldn't be.

Rick's getting worried about him, so worried that it's eating him. Anger against the world bubbles beneath his stiff exterior, seeking an outlet and target to burst out. So when he sees Daryl emerge from a clump of trees in the dark, a whirlwind of rage wells up in him faster than relief. Springing to his feet, Rick strides in Daryl's direction with a furious look on his face that makes the hunter pause on the way. "Rickー,"

"How could you think this would be okay?" Rick's voice is harsh and stinging enough Daryl to visibly cringe at it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the kudos, bookmarks and comments! They really helped me with the writing :) This has taken longer than I expected so give me one more chapter to finish it. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy this chapter.

There's been something in those moments between them. Those ephemeral, trivial but crucial moments where Rick's blood would run fast by the tiniest touch and intent stare filled with trust of Daryl, where he would realize how much the man's presence means to him while sitting next to him without words. They've had each other's backs, Daryl understands how heavy the burden on Rick's shoulders is and Rick assumes it's his duty to make sure he's all right because if he doesn't then who the hell would protect Daryl, the man who has devoted himself wholly to keep the group including Rick's family safe? Rick can't lose his people anymore, especially the one who has occupied a special spot in his mind.

Sighing heavily, Rick gives Daryl in front of him an accusing look. "You should've come back earlier."

"Headed deeper into the wood for larger game. Nothin' bad happened," Daryl replies defensively, darting a quick glance at Rick before looking away like a scolded child, which drives Rick up the wall. "Oh lucky for you, but didn't you think a little more? What if something really terrible had happened to you? You couldn't have made it back on your own."

"Then leave me and keep movin'," it sounds sullen but unwavering at the same time despite his eyes remaining locked on the dark of night so as not to meet Rick's stern gaze, and ignites his anger like poking a fire to promote burning. One hand on his hip Rick rubbed the other across the back of his neck in frustration before taking a threatening step toward the hunter, intruding on his personal space. It makes him blatantly struggle to hold back a flinch and stand frozen in his place.

"You can't be serious right? Don't say such a thing, even as a joke," Rick uses his angry, hissing tone to him as he tilts his head, trying to meet his eyes. Daryl's face is crumpled up, looking as if he's on the verge of tears, which reminds Rick so much of something etched in his memory. It's not like Rick's reaming him out for not getting back as planned, he just wants to make sure to let him know how much he cares about him, how much he means to the group, to _him._

He takes several long breaths to calm himself down, ducking slightly to catch his eyes. "Daryl, look at me."

His tone is still a bit edgy but sedate enough for the hunter to hesitantly lift his gaze and look at Rick's face through his lashes. Rick can see the grip on the strap of the crossbow tightened, his whole body tensed up in front of him like he's ready to run away into the darkness. They're just inches away from each other, face to face.

"You're one of the group, these people are all I have now, my everything, and I can't lose them. Can't lose you. You get me? We need you Daryl, I—," suddenly Rick feels something tight and hot in his chest. It's like that the strong, flaming anger he's locked into forces some strong, deep-rooted emotions to burst to the surface. Putting them into words makes him realize his feelings are stronger than he thinks, overwhelming him. He has to swallow the lump in his throat before continuing, staring at Daryl's undulant blue eyes intently to show he means his words desperately. "Daryl, I can't say how important you are to me. I'm scared, scared of losing you."

His voice nearly cracks with emotions. No reply is returned, just something in Daryl's eyes, something deep and covert, Rick can see it. He turns his gaze to Daryl's slightly parted lips that lets out a shallow breath quietly, feeling his own heart pounding harder than it did when he vented his anger on him. Neither of them utters a word, but both know there is an intensity between them that doesn't allow them to look away or make a move easily. Rick lifts his gaze up to the eyes before him again. They have a beautiful twinkle there like a surface of a lake shining in the sunlight, locked on Rick's in a way that somehow makes them look receptive and innocent.

It's not like that Rick himself knows what kind of feelings he has for the man and what he's going to do to him, definitely not but the urge and want doesn't seem to diminish anymore.

He's given him enough time to retreat, Rick justifies himself, unable to wait any longer. Carefully watching Daryl's face not to miss any changes there, he closes what little distance remained between them. His lips gently catch the chapped ones of Daryl's. The sensation is light, awkward but thrilling like a lightning bolt runs through Rick's body. He pulls back a little, looking at the other's face that is so close their noses almost touch. Daryl's eyes are wide in surprise, mouth hanging open like he forgets how to close it. There is no sign of rejection or disgust on his face, which brings a great relief to Rick and makes him crave a clear reaction to the kiss at the same time.

"Daryl?" Rick questions insecurely. No voice, no shoving, and the hunter crouches down on the spot, the quick movement startling Rick. He sees Daryl dropping his eyes to the ground, hand coming up around his mouth to gnaw away on the thumb. His body rocking back and forth slightly makes Rick frown with suspicion that the sight is strangely familiar to him. He sinks down by him to see his face. "Daryl, you okay?"

Daryl tucks his chin in his knees hugged by one arm, lifting his gaze up to meet Rick's eyes sheepishly. "Are you mad at me?" his voice is so soft Rick has to lean forward to hear correctly, and that is when he gets the idea what's going on. The look on Daryl's face, his reaction, voice are the same as those back at the farm. The words and tone he just used to Rick are the same as he had done to Hershel when they had found him cowering at the corner in the room. "Daryl, you...," he feels disappointed to find out Daryl is not in a mental condition that enables him to answer Rick's action as an adult but shakes his head before clearing his throat, giving him a stare full of tenderness. "No, I'm not mad."

"But you yelled at me," Daryl mumbles, chewing on his thumb nail in a nervous way, which makes Rick feel remorse for how accusing his tone was. "Yeah, I'm sorry, I justー," trying to convince him that it's not his fault he got angry, he realizes he doesn't know how to explain the things to Daryl who's mentally younger than his own son now. So he decides to keep it as simply as it is. "It's not your fault Daryl, I'm sorry."

When he says with a firm nod to show he means it, Daryl, who is looking at him timidly to read Rick's mood, flashes a small but real smile as if to offer reassurance. It's exactly the same as the one Daryl let him see in Greene's bedroom, warming the cockles of Rick's heart amazingly. Sure he was disappointed at the outbreak of Daryl's regression, but it doesn't hurt anyone and he even begins to enjoy it again. When he's in that state, Daryl is unbelievably open, permissive and honest, free from anything that represses him heavier than it should.

"I like that," it's a barely heard whisper from Daryl like he's talking about secrets as Rick smiles back, remembering he hadn't had a smile on his face for awfully long. "What is 'that'?"

"Having your lips on here," his chewed finger on his lips, Daryl stares at Rick without any coarse greed, making Rick feel his cheeks turning red like a damned lovesick teenager. It's like he can't hide his honest feelings in front of the Daryl in this state. It's horrible, yet absorbing.

Rick finds Daryl's hand touching his arm lightly to get attention, realizing he isn't as afraid and unwilling to touch as the actual Daryl who's already learnt from his own experience throughout his whole life that any kind of touch would cause bitter, vicious pain always.

"You gonna do it again?" he asks with his head tilted a bit, eyes fixed on Rick without hesitation or embarrassment. Rick holds his breath as he thinks real hard about what to reply to Daryl who is not in the normal state of mind, what is best. It takes forever for him to open his mouth and manage to murmur like he's not sure of what he's saying at all. "If you want to...," and before he thinks further, Daryl leans in to bring their lips together, kissing him so softly and reverently. It's chaste, childish, and painfully loving. And not enough for Rick.

His hand immediately settles on the curve of Daryl's nape as he cocks his head to the side to deepen the kiss, caressing Daryl's lips with his fiercely. He feels Daryl moaning into the kiss, making the sound which sends shivers down Rick's spine. All patience go away, Rick coaxes his mouth to open with his tongue and Daryl tentatively loosing his lips is all he needs. The kiss is searing now, their mouths and tongues crashing together and after his attempt to press himself tighter against Daryl Rick's practically on top of him, between the hunter's spread legs. Rick can feel his erection grow at the warmth radiating from the other, knowing that Daryl is feeling as well from his reaction against Rick's body. They're moving together, concertedly, their bodies pushed up against each other's. And in this position it's noticeable that how thin Daryl's getting over the past few months since he's handed over his meals to the kids or Lori, although they all are miserably losing their weights. 

They're unspeakably on fire now and there is no way they can stop anytime soon, until Daryl's hand grips Rick's shirt and pats on it. Rick reluctantly pulls away, seeing Daryl panting hard with his face all flushing like he nearly drowned. His hands are clinging to Rick's clothes with fierce desperation and it makes him feel increasingly ashamed of himself for acting purely on instinct like a feral animal. "Sorry," unable to maintain eye contact with Daryl whose eyes are watery and lips are swollen, Rick looks away to try to ease his bulge, his face as red as Daryl's. It's been so long since he broke up a relationship with Lori and he misses a touch and warmth of someone he cares about beyond expectations, Rick assumes.

"'M sorry," the soft voice comes out of the other and his sleeve is tugged at weakly. Turning around Rick finds Daryl bowing his head with his finger gnawed again. His face is contorted with uneasiness. "For what?"

"Didn't mean to stop you. I'm sorry. Don't hate me," his downcast expression tells Rick that he's truly feeling sorry, which tightens Rick's chest so badly his words stick in his throat. "No, I did never, and will never hate you Daryl." Rick moves closer slowly, pulling the man into a firm hug. Daryl doesn't buck or flinch, just lets himself sink in Rick's body with his head buried into his shoulder. The hug is a little awkward at first, then comfortable and reassuring as they start to relax and melt into each other's warmth. They rock back and forth wordlessly and Rick feels Daryl's heart beating against his chest and hears him sniffle shyly.

There are some things Rick has to talk to Daryl about but they can be left aside. Eventually they get up together, walking back to the camp where their people are waiting. Rick wonders how Daryl is gonna react to the others in this state but he quickly withdraws into his tent after giving Carol a string of a few squirrels and mumbling something like he's tired and needs rest. It seems like he still feels uncomfortable about being surrounded by people and the fact fosters a sense of superiority inside of him.

When Rick is alone again he jerks off thinking about the sensation Daryl's lips on his, his firm body against him and his raspy voice. About the image that Daryl does the same in his tent. After finishing, he pants leaning against the cold trunk, feeling a wave of guilt wash over him. And he gets adequate sleep for the first time in ages with contentment and agreeable exhaustion.


	3. Chapter 3

The voices are vague, barely heard at first and Rick comes back to reality gradually as he recognizes one of them is Daryl's. He's in the car that a weak morning sunlight pours through the dingy windshield into, his neck aching from the odd angle he slept in. It's been a few months since he started crashing on the driver's seat when they're on the road. Sometimes he goes to sleep inside his family's tent just for Carl, but he can't relax his mind around his pregnant wife anymore. It feels wrong entirely to be with her no matter how hard she apparently tries to repair their broken relationship.

Now his attention is drawn to the man who's standing in the morning haze, his crossbow over his shoulder, ready to make a move. He's talking to Hershel, and curiously enough, Rick can see Daryl's sullen look directed toward the old vet. Both are early birds in their group, always liking doing stuff in an early hour in the morning so it's not odd to see them together even though there is no one else in his view.

Rick keeps himself completely still in the blanket wrapping around his body and looks at the hunter, remembering how that body felt against his last night, which effectively makes his morning erection twitch. "Shit…," he curses in a low tone as his gaze attentively follows every movement of Daryl who looks like himself in a normal state. Talking to Hershel a bit longer quietly enough not to reach Rick's ear, Daryl turns away from the older man with a shrug and starts to walk into the woods.

Immediately Rick bolts out of the car with a call. "Daryl!"

His voice makes both of the men's heads snap around in surprise and there is an awkward, uncomfortable silence between the three until Hershel breaks it politely. "Well, good morning to you too Rick."

"Mornin'," he replies shyly, scratching his neck under the observant gaze of them. Hershel nods at him, probably in an encouraging way, then simply leaves them alone in a clearing in the woods beautifully enveloped by the morning sun.

Slowly, Rick turns to see the hunter who merely cocks his brow to question him without words. Daryl Dixon is one of the quietest people Rick's ever met, well, except when he gets into a furor, and it seems like he's more talkative and not afraid of letting words flow from his mind to mouth when he regresses.

"You remember about last night?" Rick asks plainly, and the reaction is instant and pronounced. Within a blink of an eye Daryl goes rigid, eyes narrowed with his jaw set tight. It's a sign of defense he shows when a query makes him feel insecure or exposed. "What the fuck you want?" replying gruffly, he stares hard at Rick as if he faced a relentless enemy. It hurts and irritates Rick a bit.

"Hey, no offense meant," he moves closer to Daryl, forcing himself to stop there when he sees the hunter shying away from meeting his gaze. There is a pause before the hunter shifts his weight from foot to foot and opens his mouth reluctantly. "Hershel asked me some similar shit."

"Did he?" though the disclosure surprises him, there's no wonder that the old vet noticed Daryl's timid, disoriented behavior last night before he retreated in his tent and tried to talk to him about it. That explains everything, the reason why they looked like they had an unwelcome conversation a couple of minutes ago and why the way Daryl reacted to Rick was offhand and bristly.

"Did I do something wrong?" there is a distinct note of nervousness in his voice, which makes Rick feel protective of his instability and vulnerability that he always tries to submerge. "Didn't you remember?" Rick deliberately softens his voice, unable to deny feeling disappointed at the hesitant headshake he receives from Daryl. It means he sure as hell doesn't remember the kisses. Great.

"Not one bit?"

"Dunno, remember gettin' back from hunt though," he looks lost in his thoughts like he tries to scout his missing memory out, gnawing on the thumb nail, and Rick has no intention to waste time in a pointless conversation.

"I kissed you." 

Agonizingly slowly, Daryl lifts his head to look at Rick, eyes showing his confusion as if that was the first time he'd heard the words in his whole life. ""What?" the voice is slightly high pitched, eyes piercing and threatening but not enough to make Rick give up or retreat. It's rather an ignition.

"I kissed you, and you kissed me back. It's what happened last night," Rick takes a step closer to him, staring so intently at the other that Daryl can see the outstanding blaze of the color in his eyes.

"No fucking way, it ain'tー,"

"It _happened_ ." He sees Daryl wincing at his uncompromising voice before narrowing the distance between them. He can't stop the urge to let him know exactly what's happened with them, not when Daryl seems to attempt to shrug it off.

"You said you liked being kissed by me. Is it a lie? You gonna say it's a lie?" Rick's face is tinged with pain and sadness, desperately pleading in a way that makes Daryl bite his lip. There are long moments of silence that brings out the voice of birds and cold wind as the two are locked in each other's gazes, unable to avoid realizing how red Daryl's cheeks are turning.

"Why'd I forget?" his voice is as soft as the sound of the breeze slightly rustling the leaves in the tree, apparently not inclined to answer Rick's question although he looks like he lets his guard go down a bit. So Rick has to drop the issue, at least for now.

"You, um, you regressed." It's pretty hard to explain and Daryl draws his brows together in a frown. "What you mean?" Rick looks for suitable words for a few moments before speaking again. "You got lost in your mind and came back as a child. Acted like a five year old."

He expects Daryl's outburst of justifiable upset or anger, but what surprises him is the hunter just shrugs prosaically. "Was it the first time?"

"No, the second. The first occurred at the farm. Only Hershel and I have seen and known it... Aren't you surprised?" looking at the hunter's eyes, Rick absolutely remembers how flustered he got when he saw Daryl act and talk like a little boy for the first time. However, he gives a casual shrug again. "Ain't like I didn't know my brain been fucked up already, just like Merle's. Sounds outlandish though."

His nonchalant voice shows it doesn't ring a bell with him and doesn't seem to be real yet. The only certain thing is he accepted his mind problem more easily than the fact they kissed. Rick yearns to ask him further questions, but bad things always happen at the worst timing.

"Rick, the herd is coming!" T-dog's yell breaks through his thoughts and without delay the leader and the hunter move in total sync. 

 

 

Now Rick can almost predict when it occurs. Not knowing why clearly, but he just _feels_ it.

So he doesn't get startled by the extended arms welcoming him at the entrance to his cell, the warm body pressed against his uninhibitedly, in a way that proves how much the man trusts him to hold him firmly. Rick lifts his hands to hug him back but notices they are being covered in mud after working on the farm. It's as clear as water that the man throwing his arms around Rick doesn't give a shit about it but the thing is, Rick doesn't want to soil his shirt or skin, not when he smells of soap with his freshly washed hair feeling soft and airy against Rick's neck.

"What's wrong baby," carefully keeping his own hands away Rick purrs as he squirms against Rick's body. "Ain't baby," the muffled voice sounds sulky and uneasy a bit. Rick sighs, "well, then what's the problem Daryl?"

"Noffin'," Daryl presses his forehead on Rick's shoulder, tightening the hug as if to try to squeeze him to death. It's a welcome fact that the hunter tends to hanker for close body contact when he regresses and Rick is always the one that he claims them from. When they went to Woodbury to gather their necessaries after Woodbury's survivors joined the prison, Hershel picked up some books that would be needed and learned about the pathology of regression more. "Daryl shows his vulnerable state to you because he thinks you're the closest to him and he can place his trust in you. You're his anchor, Rick." The old man's voice echoes in his mind whenever he sees Daryl run towards him with outstretched arms to hug him or cower in a dark corner to avoid everything that could hurt him. All the walls Daryl put up crash down and he's exposed to the world so it's a matter of course that he needs protection and it's Rick.

Rubbing down Daryl's back with the heels of his hands, Rick puts light kisses on his ear and neck. "Nothing means something when you say it. Tell me, what's bothering you?" Without words Daryl shakes his head to say no. "Ok then what can I do for you?"

"Hold me," there's shyness in his voice and it's kind of endearing. However, Rick doesn't forget how dirty his hands are right now. "Uh, can you give me a minute? Got to wash my hands―,"

"No."

"Will be back soon,"

"No!" Daryl says stubbornly, clinging to Rick like his life depends on it. An inaudible sigh escapes Rick. It's not new to him that Daryl gets a little selfish like this when he's in this mind state but it's still harmless, so Rick eventually gives in. As always.

"Ok, ok. Let's move to the bunk," he leads the big child to the bunk, practically drags him who never tears himself from Rick with his arms locked around his neck. It's such a hard work to carry a grown ass man despite the quite short distance of the entrance to the bunk while snatching up a shirt from a mountain of dirty laundry to clean his hands with it quickly. Nonetheless Rick surely enjoys it because it's one of the few opportunities that he's allowed to touch him intimately like this―they've not talked about the things since they were alone in the clearing in the woods, just danced around and kept themselves from crossing the line and saying clearly what their feelings towards each other are. Daryl has skirted around the issues between them and pretended they are done talking about them after all. Sometimes Rick feels like a fool and can't help but blame Daryl for forgetting all they've been through when regression hijacks him.

He carefully lets Daryl sit on the bare mattress with one arm around his waist, the other grabbing a ragged stuffed bear from the corner on the bunk to distract him while he's bending lower and taking off their boots. The bear, which is pulled tight against Daryl's chest now, is one that Rick found during a supply run and kept in his cell on the assumption that his baby girl would like it until Daryl revealed it looked very like the one his mom had given him and his dad had discarded. Now it's his favorite thing to have at his side when he's mentally a child. 

Lying down on his back first, Rick looks up at Daryl with his arms open wide to gesture for him to come here. Daryl immediately presses himself against the other's body, nuzzling into the side of his neck, eyes happily shut. The matted fur of the toy in his hand tickled Rick's chin as he drapes his arms around the heavy, warm body resting on his. He feels Daryl giggling against his neck when he rubs his nose and cheek over his soft hair, kissing his forehead.

A time like this always has a soothing effect on Rick as much as on Daryl, making the ex-sheriff think it's he who really needs this kind of proximity and affection. Sure it sometimes irritates him as hell to let Daryl act like a baby who requires great care and attention and he feels like shirking and forcing him into others' hands, but he just can't do that, because he knows how Daryl's face lights up at the sight of him. Because he knows Merle had been the only one who took care of him and even it failed occasionally from a glimpse of his scarred skin. 

The time flows slowly in this peaceful atmosphere as they hold each others bodies, inhaling each others scents that comfort both of them as if they're alone in silent, inviolable woods. After a while Daryl pulls away from him, staring down at Rick's face with a serious look like a doctor examining a patient carefully before leaning in to press his lips on the ones beneath him. The briefest, softest touch makes a shiver run down Rick's spine and it takes everything for him to stay still, not reaching out, not touching him, not cupping his head, not devouring his mouth hungrily. He wants to do, wants to claim him no matter what, but it's hard to deny that he feels the guilt flicker at a time like this. Like Daryl's all innocent and open, ignorant about what his act would cause Rick. He can't do the kind of thing that could be be considered seduction so he has to restrain himself stoically. It's the sweetest torture.

All he does is suck Daryl's bottom lip softly and relish the mellow flesh, although his hand remains on his back as lightly as he can even after the kiss is broken and Daryl lays his head on Rick's chest. Taking a few deep breaths, he nuzzles into Rick's shirt and whispers in a tone of what sounds drowsy a bit. "I like kissing you."

Rick's eyes go wide at those words of his. Daryl has never kissed him under his normal state of mind, showed no sign of intention to do something beyond friend, though his touches are secretly as frequent and intimate as brotherly ones. So Rick convinced himself that Daryl's kiss that he could get when the man regresses was the same as ones that he gives to his son and daughter.

"Yeah?" he replies amusingly as he rests his chin on the top of his head, hand gently rubbing the lower back of the man lying on him. "I like it too Daryl. I love you."

The words are drawn too smoothly to think twice like it's common knowledge shared in the world. He thinks it feels right, wondering why he wouldn't have said that earlier. And he knows it's been a thousand years since he voiced those words towards others excluding his kids.

"I love you," Rick exhales a long breath with a whispery voice, eyes shut softly as he feels relaxed against the weight and warmth crushing him right now. It really feels right.

It takes a while for Daryl to manage to mumble against his chest with his voice muffled by a fold of his shirt. "You're kiddin'."

"No, I'm serious. I can't lie," chuckling quietly Rick enjoys feeling the pleasant warmth spreading in his chest. It's quite amazing to admit your honest feelings, put them into words and tell them to someone who you think has a right to know.

He waits for his reaction to what he just disclosed, not looking directly at him but feeling Daryl's pulse racing on his chest. It seems Daryl desperately holds his breath as if he's afraid of letting out any tiniest sound. Rick doesn't say anything, just waits as his hand gently rubs across Daryl's lower back to soothe him.

The cavernous silence is exceptionally long enough for Rick to start to presume that he won't get answer or anything from him but finally the soft whisper comes from Daryl. "Ain't no one said that to me."

Overwhelming sadness churns in Rick's stomach when he realizes what it means. He can't count how many times his dad and mom said they loved him. He knows better than to mention it though, grinning as stupidly as he can instead. "Well, I was the first one then. And I mean it Daryl. I do."

A silence comes back again, filling the cell solemnly until he feels Daryl's body starts to move at last. Weakly wriggling out of his arm Daryl pulls away from him and sits up on the bunk with his back against the wall. "Daryl?" Only his profile covered by the long locks of his hair, his nose and tightened lips can be seen from Rick's position and he follows his motion, sitting up to move closer to Daryl. Then he finds the stuffed bear lying on the mattress apart from Daryl's hand. His gaze shoots up towards the man whose ear is bright red. It's at that moment that a sudden realization hits him.

"Daryl, you're back."

His voice is full of astonishment because it never occurred before. Usually it takes a few hours of sleep for Daryl to recover himself but he's back, in front of Rick, no doubt about it. He inches along toward the man who keeps hiding his face behind the bangs and avoiding eye contact desperately. "Daryl?"

"Don'," the reply is gruff, in the hunter's usual tone that proves Rick's intuition is right, though he's not sure what Daryl doesn't want him to do. So he tries again as reassuringly as he manages. "Hey, you don't need to feel ashamed of anything, it's all right." Staring at the other's flushed face, Rick offers him a gentle smile even though Daryl still doesn't look back at him. There's no wonder he can't face him from embarrassment but they're alone, nobody watches his infantile behavior, and the only witness just adores it without any problems. Daryl should know it.

In silence Daryl begins to fidget with the hem of his shirt restlessly, which makes Rick feel a bit nervous as well. "Do you remember what we just talked about?" Glancing furtively, Rick sees Daryl's head dipping in a small nod after a few seconds. So he dares to ask as he feels his heart pounding and his voice tightening in anxiety, skittishness, and excitement. "Remember what I said to you?"

Rick's eyes are never tone away from Daryl to catch the smallest change in his exterior so he doesn't miss a hint of his lips loosening slightly with a breathy 'Yeah'. It's barely heard but all Rick wants to hear right now. No hesitation in taking action anymore. Rick closes the distance between them until their legs get tangled together, leaning in to whisper in his softest tone. "Can I kiss you?"

It takes what feels like forever, or at least enough time for Rick to be aware of his blood running fast and hard, but slowly, Daryl raises his head, looking at Rick through the long locks of his hair like a curtain. It's almost a glare that he gives to the ex-lawman as if he's challenging him, and it makes Rick's face break into a huge smile because he's in love with the hunter's mulishness as much as how splendidly the red in his face brings out the sky blue of his eyes.

"Ain't the first time anyway," Daryl growls, pretending he doesn't get into the whole situation at all and realize the lack of his will to repel the man right in front of him. Chuckling softly Rick lets his fingers rest on his chin to tilt Daryl's head graciously. He can see the ingenuous, beautiful gleam in the hunter's eyes that would never be lost no matter how younger or older he gets.

"And won't be the last," whispering against his lips Rick closes his eyes to block out everything but the feeling of Daryl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it :)


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